Gift-Wrapped Governess by Sophia James Read Free Book Online Page B

forces of winter as it laid its arms about the countryside in a white blanket of cold, Seraphina felt…altered.
    Life at Moreton had been fraught and uncertain, the arguments and anger constant. She had always been frightened. She knew this absolutely because here, at the castle, she wasn’t, the disquietude of her home life replaced by hopes and promises drawing her in as she anticipated what was to come.
    But there was something today in his gaze that was hidden, and when he began to speak she knew that the details of the past few weeks had caught up with her.
    â€˜Yesterday in Maldon I saw a copy of The Times. The man you mentioned, Ralph Bonnington, is telling the world that you struck him when he offered you all the assistance and support that your father had not.’
    â€˜Assistance? My God.’ She stood as she said it, a sick feeling of horror slicing into disbelief. ‘He said that?’ Angerdarkened her vision. ‘I hit him on the head with a silver ewer because he was trying to…’ She could not go on.
    Trey came closer and reached out, putting her hand into his, the gentleness felt in the action making her heart ache. ‘The man is a charlatan and a cheat—as no one knows where you are yet it seems you are safe.’
    Relief flooded through her and her fingers clutched his. She wished he might bring her closer and kiss her hard on the lips, like the men in the romances she sometimes read at night, no choice in it but need and want and taking.
    But his fingers stayed still, a light pressure denoting only comfort and consolation. She wanted to push up against him and demand so much more, a breathless hunger nearly undoing her. Instead, she moved back, smoothing out her rumpled skirt for something to do before she had to look at him.
    â€˜He is a large man with a lot of money. If he comes here to make trouble…?’
    â€˜He won’t.’
    The certainty in Trey’s voice was so comforting. There were, after all, many other things he could have said and to have someone watching out for her was a new experience. A wonderful one! When her glance finally met his she reddened and looked away, his integrity and decency stealing into her bones as delight. She wanted to thank him for such belief, wanted to bring him into the joy of the Christmas preparation that she had spent much time in planning.
    â€˜We are dressing the tree this afternoon, my lord. The children would be happy if you might come and help us.’
    â€˜And you, Miss Moorland. Would you be happy, too?’
    Confusion made her stammer. ‘Your h-h-height would be a great aid in placing the angel on the very top of the tree.’
    When he smiled she felt her world turn and hated all the hopes that rose unbidden.
    Her reputation was lost and she was without a dowry. Her wealth consisted of what she wore, which was far less thansatisfactory, a single pearl that did have some worth and a dog who was only now learning to sit still. A hundred pounds, she reasoned, the few notes she owned tucked into her pocket after pawning all her rings and a bracelet—the sum total that stood between her and ruin.
    Resolution swept through her. Trey Stanford, the Duke of Blackhaven, could not possibly be interested in her and she could not jeopardise this posting by imagining that he might be. Regaining her lost composure, she smiled at him in the way of an employee who was both professional and distant and excused herself from his company.
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    Three hours later the smell of pine filled the room as Mrs Thomas brought in a plate of Christmas pies.
    â€˜Baked in the dozens to strengthen their charm,’ she said, ‘and good luck for the twelve months of the New Year, sir.’
    Surrounded by red-and-green ribbon, a pile of gold-and-silver paper and balls made from the dry branches of last year’s climbing wisteria, Trey was knee-deep in spangle as he looked at the tree.
    Ginger-and-butter